Cosmic Timeout
by chrysalis escapist
Summary: The effect the writers' strike has on the characters, so it's a bit strange. SMacked it nevertheless.


**Disclaimer: all the characters still belong to Anthony E. Zuiker and the crew**

"What have we got?" Stella asks as she walks up to Flack. "You do know that this is not a crime scene?" he returns. "Well, yes, but actually you look like a crime scene. So, what's up? Come on, share!" He sighs and eventually gives in: "Everything inside my head is just chaos – and a blank sheet of paper." – "A blank sheet of paper?" – "That's what it feels like, and it should be a map," he says. "You've got a map inside your head? Of what?" – "Not at the moment – and it never really was a physical map either." – "Hm," Stella nods, pondering his words: "you know, at the moment I feel like only those things which I see, hear or feel exist – as if things on the edge of my perception fade." – "Great. I'm not really sure it's scary or comforting that I'm not alone." – "Sorry!" she gently rubs his arm.

Stella walks on and comes past the morgue. Sid is sitting on one of the dissecting tables, drumming his fingers against the cold metal. He kicks his foot against one of the tool carts, watches it roll away and bang into a shelf. He cocks his head listening to the various sounds things make as they swing around in the cart and on the shelf. He marvels at the silence in his head. When he realizes Stella is watching him he shrugs.

She walks on. As she turns around the corner she closes her eyes and feels for the wall. _I can feel it, so it's still there. But just one step ahead there might be anything – or nothing at all._ She takes a step, then another and another, feeling her way along the wall, trying to sense her surroundings. "What are you doing?" _Danny, I can hear him, he's there right in front of me._ She opens her eyes and like the Cheshire-Cat his grin appears first. Then his face becomes clear. "Uh, I'm reconstructing a case." – "Ah, but we don't have a case." – "Yeah, well, old case – just keeping fit," she mumbles and walks past him, slightly embarrassed. "Uhm, Stella, you wouldn't happen to know where Lindsay is? Or how I got here?" The second question makes her turn around and look at him, stunned. "Sorry, stupid question." – "No, no, it's okay. Something strange is going on here." They look at each other and shrug with an uneasy smile.

Stella walks on. Lindsay stands forlorn in the middle of the hall, only her eyes and her fingers are moving as she seems to be ticking things off mentally. She looks at Stella. "You know, I suddenly realized there are so many things about my life that I just can't remember. Not even what I had for breakfast this morning – or if I had anything at all." Stella wants to comfort the younger CSI but doesn't really know what to say anymore, so she tries to give her an encouraging smile. Lindsay understands.

Stella walks on. _My feet are still here, I can feel them touch the ground, I can hear my footsteps, when I look down I can see my shoes. _Everything else disappears. Mac in his office. Mac! She looks up again. Mac is in his office. Is he working on something? Case files are littering his desk. He opens one, closes another. She moves closer, eyeing him and trying to cast glances at her surroundings at the same time. The door is open, she enters. He looks at her, looks at the case files again, looks at the ceiling, out of the window and at the sky. _May be he…_"Stella. Stella!" he interrupts her thought, "Would you stop pacing around!" She comes to an abrupt halt, whispering "Sorry," then, louder, she asks: "What are you doing?" – "Looking for something," he knows he can tell her, so he takes a deep breath and continues: "I feel like something is missing. I can't grasp what it is – will you stop that!" as she's continually turning her head to look in different directions. "Why are you circling this building like a bird of prey anyway?" – "Sorry," she repeats and tries to focus. "Something's missing…" she picks up the sentence for him. "Yes. I can't really tell what it is. I feel like there should be sounds, people or at least shadows around us, someone directing us – and someone watching us. I had never before thought there was any of this," he sees her puzzled look, "like sometimes you see something only when it's not there anymore or you hear a sound only after it stopped," he tries to explain. "I'm not sure I can follow you on this one. I feel like my reality is coming apart at the edges. What I can't see disappears, what I can't hear is not real, and what I can't feel…" she stops, hands in midair, once again casting looks around. He takes her arm to get her attention. She smiles apologetically. Now he has both hands on her upper arms, holding her steady. They look into each other's eyes, hold on to each other. The world around her disappears. _I can see him. I can hear him breathe, I can feel his touch._ Only Mac exists, but for a moment that is all she needs to know. "Thanks for grounding me," she says. "That's okay." He pulls her into a hug before letting her go. "So, by all that looking around you are trying to make sure everything is still there?" She nods: "And I can tell you, we're not the only ones who have such odd sensations." – "What are we going to do about it?" – "I don't think there is anything we can do about it." That thought makes her itch. She starts fidgeting, eventually turns around and heads for the door. "Hey," he stops her, taking off his tie and handing it to her, "why don't you hold on to that for a while." – "You're cute!" she smiles as she wraps the tie around her wrist and leaves the office for her second round.

She moves in on Flack, who sits in a corner, surrounded by city-, road-, and subway-network-maps, and several sheets of paper all covered with various grids and lines. Now he's taking his own fingerprints and then he's adding a few lines that turn them into little blackbirds.

Stella smiles as she moves on, looks left and right, things disappearing every time she blinks. She thinks everything will return as soon as she opens her eyes. And so it is. She comes to the morgue, glances in. Numerous tools, boxes and other things are distributed across the dissecting tables. Hawkes stands there and watches Sid – her eyes go wide – Sid is standing on one of the tables, golf club in his hands, concentrating on the perfect putt. Stella shakes her head in disbelief as she moves on.

Danny is in one of the labs, picking a latex glove from one of the boxes on the table. One glove, what does he want with one glove? "You're not going to blow it up?" – "Too late," he giggles. Why did he sound so high-pitched? She follows his glance upwards and sees seven hand-shaped little balloons gently bobbing against the ceiling. _Okay, I don't think I'll mind if that ceases to exist once I turn around the corner _she thinks as she moves on.

"Whoa!" a hand on her upper leg stops her. Stella looks down. Lindsay is sitting on the floor. Tins with various-colored powders are scattered around her. The younger CSI inspects them, then chooses what she considers to be the right color to continue her work. Stella carefully moves around the mandala her colleague is making.

She sees Adam sitting at a computer. _Well, at least one of us is behaving normal _she thinks, but when he sees her he minimizes the window immediately and looks guilty. Suspicions raised she confronts him: "What have you got there? Come on, show me!" He backs off and winces, but doesn't keep her from maximizing the window. She sees numerous pictures of children. "Adam! What is this?" – "DNA…" he clears his throat, "DNA simulations." She has her arms folded in front of her chest, fingers drumming against her elbow as she gives him a look that has driven suspects to making confessions. "Whose DNA?" she probes further although she thinks she already knows from the looks of those children. Dark hair, curly hair; green eyes, blue eyes; Mac's forehead, her chin… "They would be really pretty though," he tries to make peace. Stella snorts as she walks away.

She feels for the tie that is still wrapped around her wrist, she hears the soft rustle of fabric brushing against fabric, she holds up her hand to look at it. She sees that there are several tiny anchors on the tie and smiles. The tie is still there. _Mac is still there … but I'm not sure._ She walks around another corner and freezes. _This is not Mac's office! _ she thinks. Some of the glass walls are covered with lines and dots which at closer inspection turn out to be musical notes. He has gone origami on some of the forms (those forms of which you pass a different colored copy to different departments do make good origami paper) and now he is … where? Stella finds herself nervously tugging at the tie. From the corner of her eye she sees a moving glint. She looks at the floor. Paperclips, she follows the trail of linked paperclips. "Everything is connected," he greets her as she comes to the other end of the paperclip chain on which he is still working. "I'm not so sure about that anymore," she shivers and wraps her arms around herself, mimicking his comforting hug. "You know, I was thinking," he reaches out for her again "this could be how people felt when Darwin published his theory of evolution. Their conception of the world was shattered. They felt abandoned and lost. But nothing about their world had really changed, only the way they perceived it." – "Hm, but what about crime scenes and dead bodies? It's not just that I perceive them differently, there are none, or are there? Not that I really want there to be any, but … well … you know what I mean." – "True. Of course," he refers to both things she's just said. "There really are no crime scenes so it's not just that you don't see them," he's not sure that came out as reassuring as he intended it to. He tries again: "I can't really say that I know how you feel, and even if, I don't think it would help," – she agrees with a nod – "but I can assure you: I have memories of moments when you didn't see me – so I do exist, even when you don't perceive me. I am here, and I will be here." Her smile is still tense. "I wish I could give you more than that." Stella shakes her head: "I'll just have to hold on to the memory." She steps away from Mac and closes her eyes to start practicing.

"I think we are having a cosmic timeout." Hawkes says. Mac and Stella look up, realizing that most of their main team have gathered. "A cosmic timeout?" Flack stretches both words as he says them. "You mean, like we can do anything we want?" Danny asks, his voice sounding normal again. Sid straightens up. Danny is going to say something else but stops when Sid holds out his hand in a silencing motion. Sid looks like he's concentrating on the examination of a body, only that he doesn't squint, his eyes are closed. Stella swears he is holding his breath. Then he opens his eyes: "No." – "No, what?" Danny asks. "No, we can't do anything we want." – "How do you know?" – "Well, I'm still here, right?" – "Ah, right." Hawkes smiles at them: "No, I mean that we have been given time to sit back and think about our lives – or just do something we've been wanting to do for years." – "Like sleep?" Mac throws in, and he sees that Stella's smile at that comment is not as tense as before. "Where are you going, Sid?" Mac calls after the ME. "Home, ask my wife to prepare a nice dinner," he waves at them, "call me when the universe decides to start moving again." Lindsay's eyes wander from Danny to her mandala, back and forth a couple of times. "Hey, you can have both. I've got colors at home." She smiles and nods – two more wave good-bye. "Guess I'll do the thinking part – incidentally it's also what I've been wanting to do for a long time," Hawkes grins as he parts. "Ah, whatever, I'll think of something to do yet," Flack says and joins him. Only Mac and Stella are left. "So, you'll get some sleep?" she asks. "Yeah, and you?" – "Oh," she wraps the tie off her wrist and hands it back to him, "actually I've got quite a few dresses I haven't had a chance to wear in a while." The memory registers in his brain that Stella always wears skirts or dresses when she's off work. Mac groans slightly when a voice pops inside his head, directing him. _Give me just a little bit more time, okay?_ Then he grins as he realizes what it says: She looks great in dresses. Go on, watch! "Hey, Stella" he calls her, "I won't be sleeping all of the time. You know where to find me Wednesday nights." – "I'll be there!" she smiles, and the old sparkle is back in her eyes.


End file.
